Silverware
by Stalker of Stories
Summary: Harry's bored of Britain and decides to move away. Hermione decides to help. "What about Forks?" "Er... they're pointy?" Parody. Drabble.


Warnings: Parody, drabble, short, makes fun of Twilight. The author has not read/watched Twilight.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by Joanne Kathleen Rowling and associates, of whom I am not one. Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyer, and associates, of whom I am not one. The author is ashamed that she did not need to look up the name of the author of Twilight, considering she is completely unfamiliar with the series.

Silverware

Almost a year after the fall of Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter was very much annoyed with Wizarding Britain. Not because their laws made no sense – Kingsley was working on that – and it really had very little to do with rabid fans, since they left him alone after the first few times he told them to bugger off.

He was just bored of how mundane it had become, and he wanted to go somewhere else, at least for a few years. Luckily, Hermione was willing to help. Ron couldn't care less, but Hermione had always been a good sort.

"How about Wales? They're autonomous from the British magical government," Hermione pointed out. She was leaning over an atlas with Harry, pages open to the Europe section. "They managed to Annex from the magical government during the Irish revolution, even though the Irish are still under the British Ministry's control, and-"

"No way," Harry wrinkled his nose. "No offense, Hermione, but I could never pass as native Welsh. I can't do that L-thing they do." To demonstrate, he attempted to pronounce the Welsh double L, which sounded more like he was trying to hurl up a hair ball – or a whole cat – than speak. "I was thinking America or Australia. Somewhere I won't have to learn to make funny noises to blend in."

The bushy haired woman huffed, but agreed. "Fine, but I'm only trying to help."

"Yes, I'm well aware, and I'm grateful," Harry sought to calm her down before she decided to pretend he was Ron and actually yell at him; the savior could swear she had been taking temper-lessons from Mrs Weasley.

"As well you should be," but she smiled and turned back to the book, which she then flipped to the pages displaying the United States. "Alright, America... well, I think a big city would be out, too high a concentration of magical population for what you want. So somewhere quiet, and I'd guess you'd want a similar climate? I heard from a friend of my father's that the Pacific Northwest is fairly close. Southwest Canada, Washington, or Oregon would be ideal." The last state name was butchered, with the emphasis placed on the middle syllable and the 'o' extended too long, not that either of the Brits were aware of it.

"Not Canada, the magical society there is kinda nutso," he wrinkled his nose again. Ron's squib-accountant uncle lived in Canada and had a witch for a daughter. They had visited not long after the end of the war, and Harry had learned that the witches in Britain had nothing on the sheer madness of Canadian witches around a celebrity.

"A small town in Oregon or Washington then," Hermione rolled her eyes at how picky Harry was being, and retrieved a more specific magical atlas from her shelf. It was, needless to say, enormous, as most books Hermione owned were. "Hm... maybe Yakama? Or if you were willing to go to Idaho, you could move to this little town called Prairie (1), and apparently Idaho has a lot of potatoes..." Seeing Harry's uninterested gaze, she continued on. "In Oregon there's Astoria, or maybe Estacada? Ashland might be nice, though its a fair bit further south... oh! What about Forks?"

Harry blinked. That was... a non sequitur. "Er... they're pointy?" He really wasn't sure how to respond.

"No, not _those_ forks! Forks, Washington. It's a small town, looks pretty quiet, and according to the book there haven't even been any counts of vampires preying on the inhabitants in a decade; that's better than the Vatican City!" Hermione looked quite pleased with her find.

Harry, however, was stuck on the name. "It's named after _silverware_, Hermione. The pokey kind that you could potentially kill someone with. Is there a town named Spoons, too?"

"... No. But there's an entry under Portland, Oregon mentioning a 'Spoonman'." (2)

"Then I'll live near Portland. No scary Forks there." He grinned impishly and sashayed out the door of Hermione's room, waving to her parents as he went to their phone to book a flight to Oregon.

And thus the world was saved from yet another bad Edward/Harry fanfiction.

**Author's Note: See, for me, this was just a laugh... I'll probably get flames or something though *snerk* Wrote this as a "sorry I haven't posted Inspector Auror yet" gift... I'll try to have it out on Wednesday if I can manage it. Fairly busy right now. I'll post pictures of a zombie I made on my DA to make up for it extra though :)**

(1) Yes, it's a real town, I've been there. Though I use "town" in the loosest sense of the word. 26 families, most of them related, over 5000 feet above sea level, lots of dirt and cows, but not much else.

(2) Yes, Spoonman is real, and he resides in Oregon, so nyah. No Spoonman for you. He makes stuff out of silverware (jewelry, windchimes, etc. 'Tis most epic).


End file.
